


Spirits Wearied, Spirits Renewed

by GentleTisiphone



Category: Emma (2020), Emma - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, Girltalk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26943004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GentleTisiphone/pseuds/GentleTisiphone
Summary: When Jane asks Emma to make her excuses as Donwell Abbey Emma is moved to compassion and seeks to ease Janes sorrows with a listening ear.
Relationships: Frank Churchill/Jane Fairfax, George Knightley/Emma Woodhouse, Jane Fairfax & Emma Woodhouse
Comments: 23
Kudos: 142





	1. Chapter 1

_"We all know at times what it is to be wearied in spirits. Mine, I confess, are exhausted." ___

__Emma could only silently take in Jane's pallor and distress. Rendered mute by her uncharacteristic display of emotion._ _

__For so long this woman had been held up to her as the best companion she could have asked for._ _

__And Emma, contrary, vain creature that she was, had spurned any and all attempts by others to make such a companionship possible. Had gone out of her way to harden her heart to any of Jane Fairfax's plights or ills._ _

__But at this moment, she was moved to compassion._ _

__Perhaps it was that Mr. Knightley's many lectures or Mrs. Weston's generous nature were finally improving her, she thought._ _

__"Miss Fairfax, I cannot stand by and allow you to leave in such a state, more ever I cannot allow you to feel so wearied if there is anything I might do to relieve you of your burden." Taking Jane's arm in her own she lead her towards one of Donwell's smaller parlors and waived a footman over._ _

__"Miss Fairfax is not well, please bring some tea, and if we are missed please make it known we are still enjoying Mr. Knightley's extensive collection." She instructed softly, as she gently brought Jane to sit beside her upon on settee._ _

__"Miss Fairfax, I know that we have not been the companions many, my own family included, have wished. And in truth I must own the fault of this." Emma began, she did so hate the feeling of humbling herself, but the penance always made her feel a better person afterwards. "But please, though I know I have never encouraged closeness, is the aught I might do to aid you?"_ _

__Then, to Emma's great distress, Jane began heaving great sobs into her hands._ _

__Attempting to sooth her companion Emma spared a thought to hope that Mr. Knightley did not come upon them. Surely he would lay the blame of Miss Fairfax's distress at her own feet._ _

__As Jane quieted Emma, heard a knock at the door as a tray of tea was delivered, and, wanting to spare Jane the added insult of being seen out of state by the servants of Donwell, she rose to intercept the maid. Taking the tray with quiet thanks and a nod of her head, she returned to Jane's side._ _

__The tea at least gave Emma something to do with her hands, and as she took the time to pour to cups she observed Jane Fairfax struggle to regain control of her emotions._ _

__When Miss Fairfax reached for the tea she was again composed, perhaps still pale, but certainly more herself._ _

__"Miss Woodhouse, I must thank you for your kindness and beg for your discretion." She spoke at least, her voice gentle and measured._ _

__"And you are most welcome to both, but I must insist upon knowing what it was that caused you such grief. And I pray it was no behavior of mine... I know I have not acted nearly so well as I should where you are concerned Miss Fairfax, but I must own to envy on my part."_ _

__It was almost amusing to see the stunned look upon Jane's lovely face._ _

__"Indeed, I am a vain creature and your accomplishments and graces are so many, and so often listed to me as an example, that I did not treat you with the friendship you were due. That you are still due."_ _

__Admitting to her jealousy felt like a weight had lifted off her chest._ _

__"Miss Woodhouse, I- I too must lay claim to some blame for our friendship not being as close as it ought to be. I fear I have not sought out close friendships as I should and now I find myself wishing otherwise." She gave Emma a wan smile._ _

__"As for any accomplishments, if my aunt-"_ _

__"I assure you, while your aunt dotes upon you and certainly shares all your news and letters with us, it is not she of whom I speak." Emma assured her softly._ _

__"Miss Fairfax, may I ask, the cause of your distress? Is it a matter with Mr. Knightley?" It tore at Emma's heart to ask such a question, but after Jane's duet with the gentlemen in question she could not help but wonder if Mrs. Weston had been correct in her plans._ _

__What an ill fate, to discover her love for Mr. Knightley only after he had been claimed by another!_ _

__"Mr. Knightley! No, no indeed, Miss Woodhouse, you are gravely mistaken." So shocked was Jane Fairfax that she almost let out a laugh. "While I count Mr. Knightley as one of the finest gentlemen of my acquaintance I hold no particular regard for him, and as far as I am aware, he holds none for me beyond that of friendship."_ _

__Emma was ashamed when she could not restrain a sigh of relief._ _

__But Jane pressed on._ _

__"Indeed my affections are engaged elsewhere... but it is not a matter that can yet be publicly known."_ _

__"Miss Fairfax, Jane," Emma took her hands into her own and looked solemnly into her eyes, "if this secret love is causing you such grief, if speaking of it only to one other person might help, please let me offer my confidence and assure you of my secrecy. For truly, I cannot bare to see you so wretched."_ _

__Jane took a bracing breath._ _

__"I am engaged," Emma's mouth fell open in a most ungentlewomanly manner._ _

__"-in secret-" well obviously Emma thought._ _

__"-to Frank Churchill."_ _

__Emma was struck dumb by this confession. She could not manage to shut her gaping mouth, much less speak words of sense from it._ _

__But if Emma had felt relieved of weight in her confession of jealousy, then Jane was a bird in flight. Her posture changed instantly as if she had unfolded herself._ _

__"Miss Woodhouse you must swear your secrecy to me, if any were to learn of our attachment before his aunt passes..."_ _

__Bringing their hands up between them and giving Jane's a gentle squeeze, Emma managed to gather her wits enough to speak._ _

__"None shall hear of it from me." She swore, and she meant it._ _

__Who would believe her anyway?_ _

__"I must apologize Miss Fairfax if I behaved in a flirtatious manner towards your Mr. Churchill, indeed I shamefully admit I found him a pleasant distraction from boredom, but I can assure you I had no true designs upon him." She certainly did not want Jane Fairfax thinking she had plans to steal him away._ _

__"Oh no, please Miss Woodhouse, the apologies are mine to make, we are very aware that we have our parts to play and I could not bear it if Frank broke your heart while playing his!"_ _

__Emma did not think Frank Churchill suffered as much as his betrothed under the veil of their secrecy._ _

__In fact, though she was loath to agree with Mr. Knightley, she was inclined to agree with his assessment of Frank Churchill behaving as a fop._ _

__Indeed, fop seemed too gentle a word._ _

__Ass was perhaps a closer account to truth._ _

__Here Jane was distressed to the point of illness, and Frank Churchill would likely swan into the party all smiles and charm, without thought for the pain he may have caused the woman he loved._ _

__She did so hate it when Mr. Knightley was correct and she otherwise._ _

__"Come now, I must have you call me Emma, especially if we are to be confidants," Emma instructed, reclaiming some of her typical smartness. "And while we are occupied today and tomorrow, perhaps you will join me the day after for tea at Hartfield so we might continue to clear the air and you might relieve yourself of any other strenuous secrets which are making you ill in keeping."_ _

__Jane gave a laugh and insisted that Emma return the familiarity with the use of her own Christian name._ _

__Expressing relief and owning that she felt much improved Jane suggested they rejoin the party._ _

__But before they left the room she caught Emma's attention._ _

__"Miss Wood- Emma, I do not know what attachment you believed was between Mr. Knightley and myself, but you seemed relieved to learn the truth of it. So I feel I must tell you that I perceived a very different inclination from that gentleman. During my time in Highbury I have come to suspect he does have tender feelings, though most definitely in another direction than myself." She looked at Emma meaningfully. "Indeed, I noticed your dance with him at the Crown Inn, and believe me when I say he was most affected."_ _

__Hope bloomed in Emma's chest, and in the spirit of returning confidences, Emma told Jane of Mr. Knightley's flustered appearance at Hartfield immediately afterwards._ _

__"I could swear he had run all the way from Highbury, for he was completely without breath, and stared at me so intensely. But before either of us could speak Mr. Churchill appeared, having rescued Harriet from gypsies."_ _

__Which of course wasn't the truth of what had happened to Harriet, but she couldn't betray that confidence._ _

__Harriet! Poor Harriet would be heartbroken at the news of Jane and Frank Churchill, whenever it became known. But for now Emma knew she must remain silent._ _

__Perhaps she should take Mr. Knightley's, previously unwelcome, counsel and encourage Harriet in the direction of Mr. Robert Martin..._ _

__"Poor Mr. Knightley! To be interrupted so, likely on the verge of a confession!" Jane looked torn between laughter at the comedy of the situation and sympathy for the gentleman.__

____

____

Emma was feeling less generous.

__"Poor Mr. Knightley has done all he can to ignore me since the incident in question." She groused._ _

__But Jane merely laughed, her spirits much returned now that they were discussing someone else's romance._ _

__"Perhaps you should not be so hard on him. I have perceived him staring at you when you are not looking and he thinks no one might see him. He is likely in torment, unknowing if his affections would be returned."_ _

__What a romantic heart Jane Fairfax had been hiding beneath her reserve._ _

__But then Jane gave her a sly look and continued, "Indeed earlier today, out on the grounds you ate a strawberry and I thought he might throw his good manners to the wind and drag you over before Mr. Elton right here."_ _

__A romantic heart and apparently some utterly improper thoughts!_ _

__"You cannot be in earnest!" Emma laughed along with Jane now, but she could own she had seen that look. It caused warmth to coil low and tight in her belly and her heart to race in her chest._ _

__The thought of causing Mr. Knightley to shed his manners was titillating in a manner she had never experienced before._ _

__"Come now, while Frank was always open in his manners, I fear Mr. Knightley's reserve, proper and mannerly as it may be in company, will be easier to broach with the aid of a second set of eyes to observe his inclinations."_ _

__Now Jane's dark eyes were sparkling and Emma let forth a laugh._ _

__"Perhaps he shall come to regret encouraging our friendship." Emma mused._ _

__"Maybe he shall, but only shortly. Then I think he will be most grateful." Jane said with a smile and the two quit the sitting room find the rest of the party._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of written in the spirit of the fact that Emma isn't a bad person, she's actually a good one, she's just a little self centered and spoiled. 
> 
> So her default setting is to think of herself but I always felt, through the course of the book, she becomes aware of this and tries to be more compassionate and thoughtful. So here's an Emma who, in a moment of thoughtfulness, has an early catalyst for good behavior.


	2. Chapter 2

They spent the rest of the afternoon in much higher spirits, even Emma found her mood greatly improved.

She felt more at ease and appreciative of Donwell's many galleries than before.

And when Mr. Churchill arrived, though she did not cut him, she made sure not to give him any special attentions beyond that of a dear friend.

As the keeper of such a personal secret Emma found herself trying not to stare at the couple as she reexamined all her previous interactions with both parties.

She took great care not to rise to his bait when he slighted Jane's sartorial choices to her, only commenting idly at he took an uncommon interest in that lady's fashion. Fortunately, this ceased that particular line of conversation.

Truly Frank's behavior left much to be desired.

If she had entered into a secret engagement with a man, Emma mused, she hoped she would not have to worry over what sort of things her betrothed might say in company to keep others from parsing them out.

As she thought this her eyes wandered to Mr. Knightley, who at present was describing a piece of artwork to Mrs. Bates. Surely Mr. Knightley would never behave so thoughtlessly.

But Emma could also not imagine such an upstanding gentleman as he consenting to an engagement that was not all things honorable and proper.

He really was the best of men.

She must have been looking upon Mr. Knightley for too long as he glanced up and she found her gaze locked on his.

He tilted his head slightly and gave a quirk of his lips as if to question her attentions.

And Emma, to her horror, felt a blush rise on her cheeks.

Worse still as she turned away from his eyes her own fell upon Jane Fairfax, who had observed the exchange with her lips pressed into a line to smother the laughter, which was still apparent in her eyes.

At least she was furthering her previous attempts at cheering her new friend. 

Looking back upon Mr. Knightley she felt, for the moment, as though their closeness was all that it was before the anticipation and eventuality of Mr. Churchill's arrival and the ball, before he began to pull away from their long treasured friendship.

She felt her own mouth lift into a smile, but was forced to break her eyes from his to answer a question Harriet murmured to her.

Confiding her thoughts and feelings to Jane had given her confidence in the safety of the parlor. But now, in Mr. Knightley's presence once more, she felt that confidence wilt and whither.

It was a novel feeling for her, as she was usually so very sure of her own actions and feelings.

This temperance, this forbearance, was entirely new. But perhaps, like Jane, she could find safety in reserve.

If, as their afternoon drew to a close, she managed to find herself walking beside Mr. Knightley as they walked to the line of carriages, she could claim no agency.

But she did observe Jane Fairfax's perceptive eyes taking them in.

"I do hope the day was not terribly disappointing, given that I care all for my tenants and none for my house," he teased her lightly.

"Not at all, I was most impressed by Mrs. Reynolds alacrity in opening the house and galleries." She replied in an arch tone.

"Mrs. Reyn-? " Emma watched him stutter with indignation. But he saw her lips curling into a grin, and let out an amused huff.

"You give me too little credit Miss Woodhouse, and aim to wound me I think." In previous years, in previous months or days even, this might have been a scold, or a lesson on manners perhaps. But there was a playfulness about his words now, which carried an altogether different flavor to it than their previous word play.

Emma felt her features to soften and she smiled warmly at him.

"I aim only to tease Mr. Knightley, surely you know I would not wish to see you wounded in any manner."

His blue eyes studied her face intently.

He lifted her hand and helped her into the carriage behind her father, but before he released her she felt the pad of his thumb run lightly over her knuckles.

"Shall we see you for dinner this evening Mr. Knightley?" Her father asked, thankfully allowing Emma a moment to compose herself from the unexpected caress.

If she sought answers in his face, she was to be disappointed. He appeared, by all accounts, his usual pleasant self as he answered her father that he would have to decline the invitation and see to Donwell after their excursion.

She met his eyes once more before the carriage jerked into motion, blue and warm and filled with an emotion she could not place.

The ride home was spent easing her father of his many concerns over the day and the party. Apparently Mrs. Bates had spoken with her dear papa regarding her joints and now Emma was privy to not only her complaints but the advice Mr. Woodhouse had been only to happy to dispense.

By the time they arrived at Hartfield Emma, despite her devotion to her father, was quite anxious to seek the solitude of her room.

Her conversation with Jane Fairfax had sent her thoughts reeling. She had kept her mind busy throughout the afternoon, but now needed to think.

To think on Jane and Frank Churchill.

To think on her own behaviors with both.

To think on Mr. Knightley and the changes in their friendship.

After a quiet dinner with her father she retired upstairs, and in the quiet of her room, alone now for the night, she was occupied solely by these thoughts and many more.

On Jane Fairfax and Frank Churchill her path forward was clear, she would continue to improve upon her newfound confidence and companionship with the former, while maintaining a less flirtatious friendship with the latter.

On Mr. Knightley she had no easy answer. She was more confused now than before.

Jane had been empathic that Mr. Knightley, despite Emma's belief, had shown her no particular affection or attention.

She also considered his initial and ongoing dislike for Frank Churchill. It was so out of character for Mr. Knightley, who to all others, regardless of their station or fortune, was affable and kind.

But, as she had observed at Christmas, he was prejudiced against Mr. Churchill before ever meeting the man.

And upon meeting him Mr. Knightley's opinions had only worsened.

What had Mr. Knightley called him that evening at the Coles? A 'trifling, silly fop.'

The critique felt different than the many times Mr. Knightley had called out her vanity or stubbornness. In those instances, aggravating as he might be, he was trying to remind her to better herself.

Thinking on it now...

His dislike and ill favor of Mr. Churchill were for her ears only.

Thus, only she could be the intended audience.

She could not conceive of his knowing of the secret engagement, so his disapproval of Mr. Churchill could not be rooted in that. Though he no doubt would disapprove of the dishonesty.

For a moment she considered if he perhaps thought she had form an attachment to Frank Churchill.

If so could Jane be correct in her perception that Mr. Knightley possessed tender feelings towards Emma herself?

Was Mr. Knightley not prejudiced against Mr. Churchill, but rather jealous of his supposedly stealing Emma's attentions? Or more accurately, envious that Mr. Churchill had supposedly secured her romantic attentions?

However wrong he would be in those assessments, Emma allowed herself to hope that she was not wrong.

She went to bed with hope in her heart. Thinking of how she would try to pay more mind to Mr. Knightley at Boxhill the next day.

*************

Emma woke earlier than was her practice, and given that she typically rose quite early, the sky was still dark when she was out of bed and unable to return.

Her mind was still abuzz with all her thoughts and musings from the night before.

By the time her maid came into the room she was all but ready to dress herself for the day, so anxious was she to begin it.

Her spirits and hopes her were high, and she was determined to have an excellent day.

As she descended the stairs she made for her greenhouse and tried to calm her restless energy by tending her flowers.

But when Emma returned to the house to breakfast she found, Mrs. Williams, their long serving housekeeper, awaiting her.

"Miss Woodhouse, I am quite sorry to tell you that Mr. Woodhouse is most unwell this morning." She spoke quietly, following Emma as she ascended the stairs to her father's chambers. "We've sent for Mr. Perry and hope he will arrive shortly."

So all of Emma's plans for the day were placed aside, for she could not think of romance when her dearest father was taken to his bed.

She asked that Mrs. Williams, have a man carry a message to Donwell and quickly composed a note explaining her father's illness and expressing her regrets, but inviting Mr. Knightley to join them for dinner in the evening.

From the window she watched the man set off to the Abbey, dashing her hopes for the day with every step.

While awaiting Mr. Perry's arrival Emma, on a whim, picked up one of the books Mr. Knightley had recently brought her from Donwell's library. 

It was a treatise on grain production in Cambridgeshire. 

Good God, how dull! 

But Emma gave a fond smile. Truly the man was singular in his devotion to bettering the farms of his estate.

But to bring such a tome among those he suggested she read?

If Mr. Knightley had been any other gentleman she would have questioned his designs. No doubt, had she chanced upon this book while he was present she would have swiftly leapt into a spirited quarrel regarding his choices in reading materials for young gentlewomen.

He would have commented on an accomplished woman requiring a well rounded understanding running an estate. All the while pressing his mouth into a line trying to supress a grin.

Surely he did not bring such a book with the intention of drawing her into argument...

Then Emma had a revelation. The feeling of which was like being struck by lightening.

For how long had he been teasingly goading her, carefully laying his plans and traps then waiting for her own indignation to spring them?

The scoundrel!

Surprising herself Emma felt no pique towards him now, but only affection, good humor, and excitement towards their next meeting.

Despite how much she longed to be at the picnic at Boxhill with their friends Emma resolved to herself that if she was to be bound to home for the day she may as well lay a trap of her own making, and hopefully get the better of Mr. Knightley at his own game.

Arranging for a light lunch for herself, as her father was to remain abed for the day, she settled into the chair normally occupied by the master of Donwell Abbey, and began, with great resolve, the onerous task of reading M. Morgans assessment of crop production.

It would be an arduous labor, but Emma would persevere, her determination borne from the knowledge that Mr. Knightley would in no way expect her to have read it.

And she did so love to prove him wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make no apologies for avoiding sending Emma to Boxhill. I'm a coward who didn't want to figure it out.
> 
> I do love the idea that Knightley likes arguing with Emma, not real arguments but definitely their bickering. So I was looking for a way to have him egg her on.


	3. Chapter 3

Emma could not help but observe that the weather had turned out very fine.

Which made her all the more regretful for missing out on the picnic. But she could not possibly leave her father until he had calmed his nerves and risen from his bed.

What sort of daughter would she be to abandon him in his distress?

The morning was long, but by the afternoon Mr. Woodhouse was recovered enough to journey downstairs for tea.

Emma, despite her best efforts, had made scant progress on her book.

But had managed to retain enough information that she felt confident she could at least catch Mr. Knightley out at his game.

She had also spent a good bit of time trying to recall the exact titles of the other books he had used to tempt her into arguments.

And to Emma's chagrin she could account for no less than half a dozen times which she had apparently taken his bait.

It really was most ungentlemanly of him.

Perhaps the most ungentlemanly thing she could ever recollect him doing.

Any ire she felt over his manipulations was lost under an new sort of excitement that tingled at her fingertips and warmed her belly. 

It was odd indeed, Emma realized, that interactions which would have previously caused a rise in her temper were now met with anticipation and warmth.

With her new insight at the forefront of her mind she took greater care than usual in choosing her dress for dinner.

Emma could admit to herself, though she would never do so to Mr. Knightley, that she did possess some vanity about her form and figure.

She knew she was handsome, she knew men found her attractive for more than just her fortune. But though she always dressed to look her best she had never done so with the intent of attracting male attention.

Today, she set out to look her best, not because she felt best when she did so, but because she wanted George Knightley to notice, and possibly to throw him off his stride.

With that in her mind she chose a rose pink dress that she always thought suited her complexion very well, and that, on the first occasion she had worn it, had caused Mr. Knightley to walk into a table.

At the time she had teased him for his clumsiness, but now she suspected his distraction was the result of the gown's neckline, which gracefully danced the line of elegant and immodest, without straying into the territory of the latter.

Armored in her dress and armed with her new knowledge of Cambridgeshire's granaries. She awaited Mr. Knightley's arrival with an anxiety she had never felt before.

Emma took her time examining the feeling, as it was an odd combination of both exhilaration and dread.

Coward that she was, she counseled herself that should she and Jane both be incorrect in their assessments of Mr. Knightley's feelings she was not giving too great of an insight into her own affections.

At length she espied Mr. Knightley's form striding across the lawn towards Hartfield House and took a moment to consider her positioning.

Oftentimes, to present an image of a well accomplished young woman, upon his approach she would rush the piano-forte and take up in the middle of a song or chose a book and present the appearance of engrossment.

But Emma knew that, truthfully, she was neither a great musician nor great reader, and thus decided to be as honest to herself as she could. So, with some deliberation, she seated herself at a writing desk to add details to a drawing of Randalls she had begun as a gift to Mrs. Weston.

When Mr. Knightley entered the house he handed off his coat and hat to the footman and then joined her in the drawing room, but he seemed more agitated than was his usual manner.

And she was honestly disappointed when he did not seem to take notice of her or her choice of dress.

"Mr. Knightley, you seem in poor spirits..." She finally broached attempting to break him of his mood.

The gentleman, immediately sought to correct his behavior.

"Forgive me, Emma. I am being unpardonably rude. I hope your father is recovered and will be joining us?"

With that he finally gave her the full weight of his attention, and she could see the moment he did so.

It was highly gratifying to see his breath catch and to observe his eyes darken as they studied her figure.

"He is in a much better state than this morning, but despite how much I wish I could have joined the picnic today, I am not sorry to have kept him company. Indeed he retired early this evening and I fear we shall be dining on our own. If that is acceptable to you sir?"

She watched his face as she spoke, his relief at her father's recovery was clear, but at her mention of the picnic his features clouded with... anger?

It was not an expression often found upon the face off George Knightley.

Even at his most frustrated with her she could recall him being truly angry.

"By your expression I take it that the picnic was not all it should have been?" She asked, but noted, "That or the thought of dining with me is displeasing..."

Mr. Knightley swiftly assured her his pique was a result of the former and not the latter.

"A man would be a great fool to decline such an invitation, and I hope Emma, you do not count me as such!"

"No indeed, but until dinner is ready and I can make good on my promise of it, perhaps you would wish to unburden yourself of whatever thoughts have you so put out." She offered.

Emma and Mr. Knightley had talked of many, many things in their long friendship. From subjects as weighty as philosophy and theology, to light and airy interests such as the shifting fashions of clothing and music. They talked, too often for her tastes, of farming and, too little, of his duties as a magistrate. But though these conversations were passionate, stimulating, and at times infuriating, they were never really intimate in this manner.

More than leaving the nursery, putting her hair up, or entering society, Emma felt in this moment she was defining herself not as a young girl to be tended or as a friend to be taught, but as a gentlewoman of equal station and status as he.

And yet, to Emma, despite this weighty implication the exchange felt utterly natural.

His mind was troubled and she was happy to help him calm it. If only by allowing him to speak his concerns aloud to her.

To Emma's surprise he sat upon the chair nearest the desk where she was situated and proceeded to oblige her.

"The day started well, excepting the absence of certain persons..." He nodded his head in acknowledgement to her and she felt a lance of satisfaction through her chest that her absence should have made his day anything less than 'well.'

And he continued to describe what, by all accounts, sounded as lovely an afternoon as one could hope for. Until-

"-but it was soured by thoughtless words and wounded feelings."

Emma frowned.

"No wounds for yourself I hope?" she asked, thinking on their conversation the previous day.

Mr. Knightley gave her an odd sort of glance from the side, but he said with a soft smile, "I can assure you that there was no one present who would be capable of wounding me. And, as I have had your own recent promise of keeping me from injury, I believe I am quite safe."

The insinuation that only she could cause him harm did not go unnoticed. Emma had to wonder if she had, however unknowingly, caused him injury before.

"May I ask who was wounded then? And who the assailant?" Safer to keep to the topic of the picnic, she thought.

"Miss Bates was the most direct cut, but I am sure the injury was felt by Miss Fairfax as well. As for the assailant there was some blame to be spread about, chiefly in my opinion to be laid at the feet of Mr. Churchill, but neither Mr. nor Mrs. Elton can be absolved of guilt either."

They had talked of the faults and improper actions of others before, but to Emma this felt less like a lesson and more like a confidence.

Foolish, stupid Frank.

What had he said or done in his quest to keep his secret?

"Though I will be the last to defend that woman, I cannot think Mrs. Elton would seek to injure Miss Fairfax, as she takes a great interest in her." She ventured, thinking on the sobbing Jane Fairfax whom she had comforted the day before.

That was probably the most generous thing she had ever said of Augusta Elton.

"As for Mr. Churchill," Mr. Knightley seemed to hold his breath awaiting her judgment, his blue eyes sharp. "You have yourself noted, many times, he thinks little of how his actions might be received by others. But this is the first I have heard of so obviously cruel behavior. I do hope it is an anomaly and pray he return to his usual thoughtlessness."

And that was the most stridently she had ever spoken of Frank Churchill's actions.

"Your thoughts do you credit, but I fear they are too kind to the parties at fault Emma." Mr. Knightley commented.

For a moment Emma pondered his use of her Christian name. She knew that it was not necessarily a sign of intimacy, but more so of familiarity. Now she found herself remarkably aware of how much she wanted it to be borne from intimacy.

She wished to be Emma because she was a woman he held in high regard, not because he had known her since infancy.

For her own part she searched the whole of her memory and knew he had always been Mr. Knightley.

But suddenly, with great fervor, she wanted him to be _George. ___

____

____

"Mr. Churchill cut Miss Bates most egregiously, and Mrs Elton only added insult to injury." He stood up suddenly and paced back and forth across the room. "To his great credit Mr. Weston attempted to smooth over the offense, but then Mr. Elton deigned to come to his wife's defense..."

Mr. Knightley ran a ran over his face, clearly perturbed.

"Miss Bates, who is so good, who is so reliant upon others, to be stripped down in such a manner-" he paced the floor in his agitation.

"Is there any possibility she was at least unaware of the slight?" Emma ventured, for though Miss Bates was a very good sort of person, she was equal parts silly and oblivious.

Mr. Knightley let out a sigh, "Would that she were so! As it was Frank Churchill's meaning as well as Mrs. Elton's were felt and understood keenly." His face was so dejected that Emma felt moved to sorrow herself.

Emma rose to meet him and, feeling bold, took his hands in her own.

"Let us hope that Mr. Churchill and the Elton's will be moved to make amends for their actions." Given her knowledge of Jane Fairfax's agreement with Mr. Churchill she thought this was likely already being planned by the gentleman. She had less hope for the Elton's.

"Yesterday at the Abbey I invited Miss Fairfax to join me fore tea at Hartfield tomorrow, perhaps I should extend the invitation to Miss Bates as well."

Mr. Knightley looked at her incredulously.

"You invited Jane Fairfax for tea?" His voice was colored with disbelief, but the corners of his mouth lifted as he studied her. 

Emma merely gave an exaggerated sniff as she turned up her nose at him.

"Considering the number of times she has been suggested to me as a companion you cannot disapprove..."

He replied that he did not in anyway disapprove, but he appeared to be trying to puzzle her out. "I must admit to curiosity at what has affected this change of heart."

"Perhaps Mr. Knightley, I am attempting to better myself to meet the standard that you so often tout before me." She quipped playfully, but then looked up at him earnestly, "I know I struggle to do so given my proclivity towards vanity and contrariness, but I hope my behavior does not shame our friendship." 

Her heart thrilled as he turned her hands over and now gripped them in his.

"You lay too much credit at my feet Emma, I am sure you would have been equally offended on behalf of Miss Bates, and even Miss Fairfax, though you might pretend otherwise."

They were so close, surely closer then they had ever been before.

Emma was acutely aware of the absence of her father or any sort of chaperone.

She couldn't think of any other time in her life she had truly considered needing one. But suddenly she was aware of how very close they were, how very alone they were.

"I am gratified that you think so well of me." She managed to say. His hands were so large and warm. She could feel the light rasp of calluses along them, reminding her that he was a man who took the overseeing of his estate very seriously and very personally.

How many hours did he spend mounted upon his horse, riding the paths of his property, helping his tenants, bettering the futures of all who relied upon him?

"Emma, surely you know, surely you are aware, there is no one equal you."

She could feel a blush burning its way across her cheeks.

"Mr. Knightley, you are going to encourage the vanity which you have previously been so corrective of." She said with a grin.

He released one of her hands and moved as if to bring his hand to her face, then seemed to think better of it, and taking a step back from her dropped her other hand as well.

"Any conceit of yours is, to my mind, at least rooted in truth, where it grows from there I cannot always account for..." Though you may not always be correct Emma, do not think for a moment you are anything less than the cleverest and best woman of my acquaintance."

Emma allowed herself a rueful laugh.

"Sir now I will think you are unwell! For I know you are acquainted with Miss Jane Fairfax, whom we both know to be my superior in many faculties!"

Mr. Knightley's brow furrowed.

"Miss Fairfax is a sweet, lovely woman to be sure. She is quite accomplished and possesses an elegance many would envy. But she had faults of her own, just as you have many praiseworthy qualities to boast of."

Emma found herself desperate to hear these qualities, but only if Mr. Knightley was the one telling her of them.

Instead she found herself reminded of her concern for Jane.

What a wretched friend she was, so focused upon Mr. Knightley and his proximity that she neglected to ask more on the injuries to Miss Bates and Miss Fairfax!

She opened her mouth to ask Mr. Knightley more about the end of the ill fated outing, but the door to the parlor opened and she quickly stepped further away from him.

The footman who entered gave no indication that anything untoward was occurring, but informed them that it was time for dinner.

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of written in the spirit of the fact that Emma isn't a bad person, she's actually a good one, she's just a little self centered and spoiled. 
> 
> So her default setting is to think of herself but I always felt, through the course of the book, she becomes aware of this and tries to be more compassionate and thoughtful. So here's an Emma who, in a moment of thoughtfulness, has an early catalyst for good behavior.


End file.
